


Imposter Syndrome

by PlagueChan



Category: Christine - Stephen King, Stephen King - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Childhood Trauma, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, I will ship these two till I die, Love/Hate, M/M, NSFW, Nightmares, Paranormal, Psychological Trauma, Sequel, Sex, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Trauma, and also LeBay annoying the everlasting fuck out of Arnie, headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:16:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28831056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlagueChan/pseuds/PlagueChan
Summary: **Very Important Please Read**After an unexpected drunken night, both Arnie and Buddy endure horrific nightmares and a guest beyond the grave with malice intentions. Will the boys reconcile or continue on living through it?--This fanfiction is a sequel to Drunken Memories----This fanfiction has themes of childhood abuse/trauma, present trauma, alcohol/drug use, mentions of self-harm/suicide, and discussions of mental health. Viewer discretion is highly advised. Please know that I do not condone any of the actions that Buddy and his gang have caused, but to give an insight of their behavior and past ((all based on headcanons of course))--
Relationships: Arnie Cunningham/Buddy Repperton, Dennis Guilder/Richie Trelawney, Don Vandenberg/Moochie Welch
Kudos: 4





	1. Terrible Beginnings

_One occupied swing was all there was at the park. One child all alone with the lukewarm rays of the sun resting on his back. The soft glows of yellow and orange before everything could turn into blissful calm shades of blue and grey. There was no hurry for the little one to come home. Not just yet._

_“Why are you here by yourself?” A voice reaches his right ear._

_“Daddy was mad again.”_

_“Is that so? I think you came here in hopes to find someone. You were waiting, weren’t you?”_

_The boy looked towards the direction of the voice to find a tall man. Tired, almost decrypted. Salt and pepper hair with a few wrinkles decorated his face. Seems to be not much older than in his forties, maybe even older. It all depends on who’s asking._

_“Do you know me?” The man pointed at himself, smiling of pure amusement._

_The young one shook his head, dark eyes cautious and filled with the response of the reaction of flight. He didn’t want to be around him._

_“Well that’s a diddly darn shame.” The man frowned, walking a few steps closer._

_Just before the little one could jump off the swing and run, a hand swiftly reached successfully grabbing his jaw. The force of the older man’s fingers were immense. How hurtful those boney chapped fingers felt. The little one wanted to scream, cry for help. It almost felt like he couldn’t. He was too scared out of his mind to try to wiggle his way out. How icy those blue eyes of the stranger looked. Practically freezing the trembling kid where he sits._

_“Because you should know me, …” The man’s frown bent into something unmerciful, vengeful even. “You little shitter.”_

* * *

Buddy gasped. Sitting up right with his chest heaving and hands gripping the bed sheets. 

That was the third nightmare he has had this week on account with a few that were …. interesting. Al though, the nightmares were something that he couldn’t shake off. After meeting with Arnie, there had come this sickening weight in his gut. Almost as if there was someone or something continuously watching him. He didn’t know what it was. Frankly, he didn’t want to know. 

Whatever it was, Buddy wanted it to kindly fuck off. It was bad enough that his insomnia didn’t let him sleep enough as it is. One thing’s for sure was that whatever was stirring up these nightmares, Arnie had something to do with it. Whether it was because of what happened that night, Buddy wasn’t sure, but he was going to find out.

* * *

For the past couple of weeks, Arnie’s mind has been in a complete daze. He couldn’t explain this sudden change he felt, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to consider it to be good or regrettably horrible. It was hard to think about Christine without the image of Buddy to come across it too often for comfort. Miraculously, Christine had fixed herself like nothing had happened, though he had felt an aura that felt vengeful. It had every right to feel as so. Repperton and his gang felt the need to add onto Arnie’s misery by smashing up Christine in such a barbaric fashion. For that, Arnie will never forgive Buddy for that. 

The recurring anger apparent in his fist. How trashed she was. The cherry on top of the cake was how one of them so kindly defecated on the dashboard. Arnie would have to take guesses on which sick bastard thought it would be a hilarious idea to do it. Either way, he was going to make sure that each one of them would get theirs. 

“You? Get revenge? Oh, I don’t know about that, bucko. I think you’re in pretty deep waters with your conflicting feelings as far as I’m concerned.” 

Of course. LeBay has to show up whenever he would try to get his head on straight. 

“It's interesting, honestly. Back when those limp-dicks smashed Christine, I was more than ready to snuff them out. One by one.” LeBay cracks his knuckles, “The fat fuck was the first to go. I suppose I had the option of either killing them all or … wait it out. Never would I have imagined that the results would turn out like this.” 

Arnie aggressively taps his fingers on his wooden desk. From lack of sleep he was on edge of being completely irritated. He wanted to believe so bad that this was all just some screwed up hallucination that his mind made up. LeBay seemed too real. Too lively for a deceased old deranged man. What made his blood run cold was how often LeBay knew what he was thinking. Prattling at certain hours when he wanted to be left alone. Mockingly repeating what he had set in his head. Annoying, but terrifying. 

“So, what do you plan to do now? Just ignore everything like it had never happened? I find it hard to believe that you can.” LeBay took an empty seat which happened to be right next to Arnie. “The moans you let out in your sleep say otherwise.” 

“Shut up!” Arnie shouted, slamming his hands on his desk. 

A few gasps and pencils dropping, Arnie had realized what he had done. 

The teacher looks back at Arnie with an expression that both displays unamusement and disappointment. A look that a parent would give to a child when they would talk back. It made Arnie’s face turn red and sink into his chair. The worst part of it was how the teacher was one that often praised him for the streak of A’s that was broken due to his pinned attention with Christine. He would come home and go straight to bed with no time to study. It truly was a shame in his teacher’s eyes. How so much potential and promise was quickly taken away. All because of a car. What a waste. 

“Is there something that you wanted to say, Arnold?” The teacher placed a hand on his hip, keeping the chalk in the other firmly placed on the blackboard. 

“N-No, sir. I’m sorry.” Arnie says, shaking his head. 

With a small “hrmpf” from the teacher, a few chuckles and whispers reached his ears from the back. 

“You really are quite popular as to making an ass of yourself.” LeBay hums, “I’m pretty sure more than half of the school thinks of you as a complete loon.” 

Arnie sighed heavily. This day couldn’t possibly be any shittier. 

There isn’t a single student in the entire school that could hate being here more than he did. It was close to the midst of March and spring break was right around the corner. Just a couple more hours and the weekend will jumpstart days of what Arnie possibly needs. He already knew for a fact that he was going to spend the entire spring break working on homework and complete extra credit to bring his grades up. Not that he was complaining. There wasn’t anywhere that he had planned to go to and certainly nobody wanted to hang out with him. 

With how close Leigh and Dennis have been with each other, they might as well be an official couple. The entire school raved on and on about how the two were meant for each other. Each classmate discussing it was like a knife twisting in his heart. 

“Not sure why she dated you in the first place. It was obvious that the most beautiful girl in school would date the football hero. Not to date some loser that lost his shit over an outdated car.”

An antique, he wanted to correct them. She was and is a prized antique. 

They just …. don’t know her like he does. How beautiful she is and how much she fills his heart with content. She was a place to be alone with. A place where he could cry, scream in anger, and overall just be himself without the pressure of the cruel social chain from school to hang over his head. 

However, as of late, his love for Christine has been constantly interrupted by another internal force. 

Well, whatever. 

Arnie didn’t have time to think about all this. Seeing as he was far behind his notes, he needed to start picking up his pencil and write away before his mind could drift even further into a storm of questions and what not. 

* * *

With the final bell, everybody rushed out to their lockers getting everything they need and sprint out the door. Arnie was in no rush as he was stopping by classroom after classroom receiving the paperwork for his extra credit. A few of them seemed happy that Arnie was dedicated to taking his studies serious again while others still shared their disappointment. He was used to it at this point. Hearing it from his parents was well enough to last throughout the school year. 

If he was ever to get them off his back he would need to graduate. There was no point in dropping out now as graduation was only a couple of months away. It seemed so close, but so far away. 

Gathering all of his stuff into his school bag, he walks down the empty hallways towards the exit. No one was waiting for him by his locker to recite all the fun mischievous activities that would take place during spring break. Dennis usually would. 

But he’s not here. 

He must be at the hospital doing his own work if not being idolized by almost hundreds of the entire school. All of them congratulating him on how he was able to snag such a pretty girl. 

“Oh yeah. A bunch of brown-nosing, boot-licking, cunt sniffing, dickless shitheads they are. How dare they tend to your best friend at a time of such need. Or I guess in this case someone that you once knew. An ex-football player that wants nothing to do with you. Who can blame him?” LeBay skips besides him, “If it weren’t for you he probably would’ve won the game. All you ever did was just suck face by the time you arrived at the field.” 

“But I guess I should give you some slack as he should’ve paid attention. But whatever. Shoulda, woulda, coulda.” 

“Don’t you have anywhere else to fuck off instead of irritating the ever loving shit out of me?” Arnie snarls, “I’m so fucking sick of this.” 

“Oh c’mon, you know as well as I do that I find this to be completely amusing. If you were dead, like me, you would’ve done the same.” LeBay asserted, “You should be grateful. I could be doing shit that is much worse than annoying you.” 

“Uh huh.” Arnie sighed, hardly paying attention as he walks down the school steps outside. 

Just before he could make a corner turn of the school grounds, something hard grasped his shirt and yanked him towards the other side of the concrete steps. He yelped almost losing his footing. 

“Long time no see, Cuntingham. It's been a while.” The familiar voice caught his attention. 

Slowly lifting his head up, the sense of dread rushed in Arnie’s veins. 

“B-Buddy, w-what the fuck are you doing here?! You know you’re not allowed on school grounds.” 

“Tis nice to see you too, and you should know better than to know that I don’t care.” Buddy loosens up his grip on Arnie’s shirt, “I came here to ask you somethin’.” 

Oh god. What could he possibly want? Another round at a motel room where they chug alcohol down their throats and fuck each others brains out? 

No, no of course not. Right? Even when Buddy had stated before that he didn’t regret it, he was sure he didn’t want to do it again. Arnie was positive. No way, no how. 

“If I answer your question will you leave me--” 

“Have you been getting nightmares as of late?” Buddy asked, his eyes completely locked on Arnie. 

“Nightmares? Nightmares of w-what?” Arnie faltered, trying to wiggle free from Buddy’s grip. 

“You fucking know exactly of what I’m talking about, Cunningham!” Buddy shouted, nose to nose. 

“Get off of me!!” Arnie cried out, managing to push Buddy off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

“Bullshit!” Buddy barked, “Ever since that fuckin’ night, I’ve been getting these god damn nightmares. You have somethin’ to do with it?!” 

“I-I swear, Buddy, I don’t know! I don’t fucking know!” Arnie put his hands up, backing up on the sidewalk. “J-Just leave me alone!” 

Finding his footing back on the sidewalk, Arnie makes a run for the parking lot. The same rented car that he had used when Christine was in the garage for repair, his hand scrambles in his pocket to find the keys. 

“C’mon! C’mon, fuck!” Arnie panicked. 

“Oh for fucks sakes, Arnie. Would you calm the fuck down? He’s nowhere near catching up to you.” LeBay leans against the car, arms crossed. “The shitter couldn’t as you two were making a scene.” 

Looking back over his shoulder he could see a couple of pedestrians having their attention to him with concerned looks. He needed to calm down, but with everything hitting him all at once was too much. First, he fucked the guy that made his highschool life a living hell and now the previous owner of Christine is haunting him. What a fucking life. 

Finally unlocking the car door, he throws his bag on the passenger seat. Turning the key into the ignition and starting the car, he backs up and makes his way for the main road. Just thinking about plopping onto his bed after a long day of school was what he needed. 

It did make him wonder what Buddy was talking about. Since that night he’s been plagued by neverending nightmares and hasn’t gotten much sleep since. Arnie had always seen the dark circles around his eyes in previous school days, but they’ve seemed to get much worse. He honestly couldn’t say. 

Well, whatever the reason may be, Arnie didn’t care. Serves him right for everything that he’s done to him. It was about time that he had gotten the taste of what being afraid was like. 

After all, payback’s a bitch. 


	2. Knock At The Door

_Saturday_

_“How many times are you going to cry today?”_

_“Don’t worry, your father will be back soon.”_

_“If this is how you’re going to behave then you can go in the corner.”_

_The little one didn’t mean to shed so much tears. All these unknown eyes locked onto him aids his stress. He doesn’t mean to cause any harm to anybody. Not having his father’s hand to reassure he was safe, he had never felt more alone than he is now._

_Being rather tall for his age surly had the other children to either look in awe or in disturbance. How can someone be so young and so tall? Tall and thin as a beanpole. Almost a freak of nature._

_He didn’t mean to be so tall._

_What he was is what he is._

_A boy that only wants to avoid trouble._

_The main problem was how the trouble always seems to come to him._

_At first it seemed strange of how his classmates could be as brutal as the few adults that he knew outside of school. How surprising it was to him that these groups of kids can possess the cruelty to call him names and push him against lockers making him lose his balance. He had tried to ignore it, albeit the bruises on his arm would remind him otherwise of what would be in store for him outside of that classroom door._

_Everytime he stepped out the door, everytime he had gone to get his things, and everytime he was so close to the exit, ……_

_“Hey freak! Where do you think you’re going in such a hurry?”_

_A voice shouts from behind before the young one could be forced back by the end of his shirt. He yelped with his back harshly pushed against the metal lockers. There in front of him was a boy that he had wished he never made eye contact the first day of school._

_Thomas McGrady._

_Infamous little shit that he is. A nightmare on two legs that enjoys to make others around him afraid if not miserable. Of course, …. These were all words of the poor kids that he had chosen to make his targets. To the teachers, he was a perfect little angel. Just an misunderstood young boy that has been held back on such “unfair” circumstances. Whatever those were, nobody really knew._

_How the boy came victim to the brute was a misfortune. One kid that Thomas had bullied previously moved to another town. Naturally, bullies always seek out the next target in a matter of minutes. It wasn’t hard. Just seek out an outcast that doesn’t fit in the “normal” criteria of the school system then it's all set n’ stone._

_A loser that could hardly defend themselves and nobody to stick up for them._

_What a shame._

_“My, my, what a predicament this is. Of course, this doesn’t surprise me.” An older man spoke on the side. “Just when I thought that you were practically born to be the shitter that you are, but now I see that you were MADE to become one.”_

_That man. Back at the swing set. Why was he here?_

_The boy looked back at Thomas with his gang of goons and back at the man. Could they see him?_

_This isn’t right. That man. He’s not supposed to be here. Why is he here?!_

_“This was the start of it all, wasn’t it?” The man scratched his stubble chin, making an unpleasant sound. “Somehow I thought this would be more interesting.”_

_The grip on Thomas’s fist tightened, pressing the boy further into the locker. This felt too painful to be real._

_“But we’re only at the tip of the iceberg in terms of looking deep into the memory bank, so I suppose I should be patient. Who knows whatever's in store for me.”_

_The boy looked away from the adult closing his eyes tightly. In any stressful situation a child would be in, naturally they would scream and would do anything to run away. For the boy in particular, felt trapped. Frozen stiff, the only option he could come up with was to close his eyes and count to three. Hoping and wishing this was all nothing but a horrible dream. Just count to three._

_1, ….._

_2, ….._

_3, ….._

_Open._

_Looking down he was … off the ground. The fist that held him in place was no longer Thomas’s, but somebody else’s. A much more stronger grip and knuckles that were worn and chapped. Now meeting eye to eye with the man with the cold ice eyes making his heart skip a beat._

_“Times up, …” He grins, pulling the boy close._

_Without time to react, the man shoved the boy against the locker with great speed. The force echoing in the dead empty halls. The metal of the locker curving around the boy’s body. His ears ringing and vision blurred. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. All that was clear to him was that man._

_“Wake up.”_

“Wake up! Bud!” 

Opening his eyes and gasping for air, Buddy grasped the bed sheets. His entire body felt cold and ached. It felt as if his body was slammed against the ground with brute force. How awfully abnormal it was to experience this type of pain especially right out of a dream. No, not a dream. Just some fucked up version of a memory. And that man, … that old fuck. 

Why is he in his memories when Buddy knows pretty damn well that he has never seen that man before? The same guy infiltrating the last one. 

“Jesus, Bud, are you okay? Scared me half to death.” Richie sighs in relief. 

Buddy had almost forgotten where he was. He was in Richie’s apartment where he thought that changing the scene would help with the nightmares. Now with the confirmation that no matter where he sleeps, they still come. What was he going to do now? Just … never sleep? Bullshit. Complete utter bullshit. 

“Oh, I fuckin’ scared you? Nearly died in my sleep.” Buddy groans, “What time is it?” 

“About half past one. You did sleep for quite some time.” Richie smiles sympathetically, “As soon as you laid down last night you immediately passed out.” 

Out of everybody that Buddy knows, Richie was the one that he felt closest too. The one that he felt free to let his guard down to. To tell Richie anything without feeling detested. Of course, how could he? The two have almost been inseparable ever since middle school. 

“Was it that dream?” Richie frowns, cautiously placing a hand on Buddy’s shoulder. 

“No. They’re not dreams, but more like terrifying versions of memories. I don’t fuckin’ know.” Buddy chews his inner cheek, “I don’t know why they’ve started happening, and I don’t know how to make it stop.” 

Richie didn’t want to say, but he knew exactly why. After that night, something did happen. Something that doesn’t belong on this Earth unleashed itself wanting vengeance. A part of it has something to do with them smashing up that car. That Plymouth Fury with the most unnatural aura once Richie set his eyes on it. Just one glance and that’s all it took for Richie to know that it wasn’t an ordinary car. 

No matter how many times Richie had tried to talk Buddy out of trashing the car, his mind was made up. How Buddy brushed the warnings off as pure “nonsense” or how “It’s only a car”. It’s true that it’s a car, but Richie knew there was more to it. Much like a blood-thirsty animal sleeping peacefully in its cave unless a destructive impact wakes it up. 

Now that animal is unleashed it’ll do whatever it needs to take the trespassers by the throat with its jaws. 

Oh, what should he do? What can he do? This was all crazy. But, … Buddy can’t suffer with these nightmares forever. He must get the bottom of this as soon as possible. 

“Hey, B-Bud, I’m gonna head out for a bit. Why don’t you stay here for another night and try to rest?” Richie suggests, “It’ll be good for you to be away from home for a while.” 

“Mmm, thanks. You headin’ to the grocery store? If I give you some cash, will ya buy me a pack of camel and booze?” Buddy asks, reaching into his pocket and pulls out a jackson. 

“You know that you’re gonna have to quit on those sooner or later, Bud.” Richie reluctantly takes it, “Smoking's bad for ya, y’know.” 

“Oh Christ, shut up. Just do it.” Buddy lays his head back down, “Get something for yourself or keep the change. I honestly don’t care.” 

“Sure thing, Bud. Thank you.” Richie smiles, “I’ll be back in a little while.” 

Buddy let out a tired hum before putting on the thin blanket over him. Even if he couldn’t sleep, he would cherish every second he would be away from home. No screaming matches and low chances of another fist fight happening. Not today. No siree. Just peace and quiet that followed right after Richie closed the door behind him.

* * *

“How’s the homework coming along, sweet heart?” Arnie’s mother, Regina, walked into the kitchen. “I see that they certainly have you busy for the break.” 

“Fine. Just fine, mom.” Arnie tapped his pencil erasure on the table, eyes glued to his book. 

Regina bit her lip, wanting so bad to talk to her son without this fear chewing on her leg. It was strange how this sudden change of attitude came to be compared to the night when Arnie discovered his car was totaled. The absolute wrath she saw in her son was heartbreaking. How much she had blamed herself along with that cursed car that her baby was going down in such a calamitous path. 

It relieved her seeing Arnie at home rather than being in Darnell’s garage. Maybe there was still hope for him yet. If only she knew of what caused the change. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, honey, have you talked to Dennis recently?” Regina opened the fridge to reach for some eggs. 

_Seriously? Is that your idea of a fucking conversation starter, mom? God._

“Mom, please. I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I just want to work on my homework right now.” Arnie grits his teeth, “Just--” 

“I-I know, honey, I know.” Regina raises her hand up, “I’ll leave you alone, I’m sorry.” 

Arnie rolled his eyes before averting them back to his textbook. There was definitely some reading, but the concentration was hardly there. 

A soft sigh came from his mother. As much as she was sure she had cried her last tear, she could never predict a few more rushing to the back of her eyes. She needed to remind herself that everything has the chance to become right again. It has to. Otherwise, … what else could she do? 

Just wait and see what happens. 

The sound that breaks the silence was the rustling of pots n’ pans, measuring glasses, and tiny glass containers of spices. Regina thought that making Arnie’s favorite dish for dinner would help things liven up a bit. Maybe finally get to open up a bit once he gets a decent meal in his stomach. 

What next reached their ears was a knocking at the door. 

“Hmm, I wonder who that could be.” Regina turned her head towards the door, “Arnie, would you be a dear and get that for me? I have my hands full.” 

_Oh yeah, sure ya do ma._

“Sure.” Arnie got up from his chair and headed towards the door, stretching his back. 

It’s nice to get his eyes away from the jumble of words his brain fails to concentrate on. It was becoming exhausting to fight with his own mind. Whoever is behind the door came at a good time. 

Arnie turned the knob and opened the door. To his absolute surprise, it was someone whom he never thought would show up at his door in a thousand years. 

It was Richie Trelawney. 

“Uh, ……” Arnie’s mouth opened, perplexed. 

“H-Hey Arnie, I’m s-- .. Uh, …. I-- … Is this a bad t-time?” Richie staggers, “I r-really need to talk t-to you.” 


	3. Désolé

Arnie was no way surprised that one of the perpetrators had shown up here on his doorstep, but he immediately felt angry. This guy had the absolute nerve to come by. Thinking he could just smash his car then suddenly have a change of heart and come here to apologize? Oho, this slouching fuck had another thing coming. 

“Why are you here and what do you want?” Arnie growled, “Haven’t you and your pals done enough?!” 

Richie flinched in response to Arnie's words, not that he really blames him of course. He had to keep his composure in order to keep this going. 

“I, I … I know that you’re angry, a--and you have every right to be. I h-have no excuse for what happened.” Richie lowers his head, nervously rubbing his hands. 

There was nothing more that Arnie wanted to do but slam the door in Richie’s face. Screaming in profanities with maybe the option of giving a few punches here and there. He could take him. Richie looked absolutely pathetic standing there trying to give him a half-assed apology. 

“If only I can express how sorry I am, but I don’t think it’ll be enough to cover the damages that we-- I have done.” 

_Yeah, no shit sherlock._

“Is that why you’re here? To spit out empty apologies?” Arnie scoffs, his patience getting thin. “You’re wasting both of our times.” 

The sting that Arnie’s words have afflicted were beginning to strike a nerve with Richie. Albeit he felt he had no right to feel that uprising of irritation. 

“N-No, I’m not! Arnie, I’m not here to make myself feel better! I know fully well what’s done has been done.” Richie averts his eyes in different directions, his hands sweating in his jean pockets. “The reason why I came here in the first place was to ask if anything strange has happened as of late?” 

What does he mean by that?

“Okay, so, you walked all the way over here just so you can ask me about any oddities going on?” Arnie taps his fingers on the edge of the entrance way, “You fucking serious?” 

Richie bites his lower lip nervously. How could he further explain the situation without sounding that he knew of what happened that night? He didn’t think this through. Now with his thoughts all jumbled it was hard to even start forming a sentence. With Arnie’s patience growing more and more thin, he would need to calm down in order to move this along. 

Arnie took a quick glance in the kitchen to see his mother having a worried look on her face. He needed to end whatever this pathetic conversation was quick. 

“Look, I have no clue of what you’re talking about, but I hardly doubt it’s any of your business of what goes on in my life. You guys have already made sure to make it as miserable as possible.” Arnie says peevishly, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go back inside.” 

“J-Just think about what I said. I know that you know that some w-weird shit is happening.” Richie begins to go down the porch stairs, anxiety buzzing in his stomach. “At the very least, p-please be careful.” 

With a doubtful huff, Arnie slams the door causing Richie to flinch. 

“ _At the very least, please be careful._ ” Arnie mocks Richie’s last sentence, “Whatever.” 

Regina didn’t want to dare to ask who was at the door and what they were discussing about. As much as she wanted to intervene, she didn’t want to add onto Arnie’s agitation further. 

One thing she did find rather odd was how suddenly cold the kitchen felt. Sure, it was spring and often not it does tend to get rather chilly outside. It felt … abnormal. Much like the presence of an unwelcome guest with ill intentions. 

After the slam of the door, it was gone. 

She must be losing it. Yes, that must be it. With the constant stress of Arnie’s erratic behavior and that repulsive car, Regina was surprised she wasn’t losing her hair nor her mind completely. Unless she could call chugging gin and tonic almost every night normal. 

Nonetheless, all she can do is hopelessly pray that something could steer Arnie in the right direction. 

~*~ 

What time is it? 

Buddy had tossed and turned countless times and he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. In fact his body just seemed to ache the more he had laid on the mattress that didn’t have a bedframe. It wasn’t so bad. The mattress itself was comfortable enough, but his body wanted him to get up and walk around. Do something instead of laying down with the constant fear of going back to sleep. Just …. Something. 

Maybe walk around to do something to take care of his restless leg syndrome. What was there to do in the apartment? Richie’s parents won't be home until much later just to make ends meet, so Buddy practically had the entire place to himself. 

All there was to eat in the fridge was left overs. Chinese food from last night and some homemade chicken pot pie that Richie’s mother made a couple of days ago. It’ll do. Not that he had much of an appetite, but he wouldn’t want to go to bed hungry. 

As he gets up, he cracks his back before heading himself to the refrigerator. He had tossed aside his jeans long ago and was in his underwear along with his jet black t-shirt. It was fairly comfortable in the kitchen, albeit a bit colder than usual but Buddy wasn’t complaining. Too exhausted to do anything about it. 

Reaching into the fridge he grabs half of the rest of the chicken pot pie. Didn’t taste as good as it looked. Could’ve had more salt and pepper. Maybe some garlic, ….. 

Eh, ...

It is what it is. 

“Where the fuck is he?” Buddy mumbles, swallowing the last bits of food in his mouth before putting everything away. 

“Should’ve been here with the booze and my fuckin’ cigarettes two hours ago.” Buddy hissed, running his fingers through his thick hair. 

He had better not used that money all for himself. 

The fuck would he spend it on anyway besides of what he was instructed to get? 

No use pondering about it when there was no way to get in contact with him anyhow. Maybe he didn’t stress enough that when he wanted his alcohol and cigarettes, he wanted them NOW. His nic-fit wasn’t going to go away on its own now wasn’t it? 

“Fuck, ….” Buddy sighs heavily, “Shit, whatever. It's fine, ….” 

He’ll just have to go back to bed and hopefully let his body relax. Maybe sleep if his mind would allow it. God only knows of which fucked up memory his brain decides to dig up. 

It's funny, honestly. 

Of all the memories that popped up it had to be specific ones from his childhood and not from that night. The night where it involved going to a shady looking motel room and had sex with Arnie Cunningham. Both completely shit-faced. 

He remembered waking up with Arnie making a complete dash to the door leaving him in the bed with a hangover that would put any migraine to shame. Buddy had to give himself a good couple of hours to pull himself together before he could walk himself home. 

The dumbass even left his jacket behind. In which, he wanted to keep for himself, but he wouldn’t know if Arnie would go batshit crazy if one thing is out of place. Probably have his mom call the authorities or something. 

A small chuckle left Bud’s lips as he placed an arm over his eyes as he lay down on the mattress. 

He wonders how it was. 

Judging by how Richie was describing the nail scratches on his back, it must’ve been good. Really good. 

A prideful grin emerged on his face as he could give himself a pat on the shoulder. 

How did it all start? Well, of course the two took shot for shot of the hard liquor once they sucked away the buzz starters and it was all a blur from there. Did he start or was it Arnie? Having those smooth pink lips against his while tongues intertwined with each other. Clothes were probably flung in every direction once things were beginning to heat up. Shirts were removed first. Having to see Arnie’s small frame that was accompanied by two hardened dark pink nubs made Bud’s leg twitch. 

Buddy felt his cheeks grow hot. Licking his lips imagining just wrapping them around one of the hardened nipples. Grazing his teeth against it making the nerd sitting on his lap moan. Teasingly lapping his tongue, leaving Arnie a begging mess. 

He felt something hot and wet poking his belly button till Buddy realized it was his erection. Still keeping his eyes closed with his arm covering them, he used his free hand to pump his cock. Using his thumb to quickly change the scene where Arnie’s tongue circles the tip. His hand on top of Arnie’s head, fingers wrapped around the ebony strands. He applies pressure on the head to indicate to go down further. 

The nerd’s tongue pressing against his cock while struggling to take in as much as he could. 

Buddy pumping his erection, his legs begin to spread. Back arched as a soft moan leaves his mouth. He was so close.

For the big finale, Arnie would deep throat his cock right before Buddy would cum inside, leaving him to swallow every last drop. 

“F-Fuck, ….” Buddy gasped harshly, cum dripping down from the tip to the palm of his hands.

Buddy’s back twitches as he stays in the position for a minute or two. The intensity of his heart beat slowed down with his eyes closing. Finally, his body was starting to calm down. Even if the high of his orgasm was gone, Buddy still wanted to visualize the aftermath. 

Arnie licks the remnants off his soft pink lips with the afterglow of lust shining in his silver eyes. The slow climb before Arnie would press those lips against him. Their hands softly sliding against each others skins and---

  
Oh fuck, what was wrong with him? 

Why was he trying so hard to envision a fantasy that wouldn’t come to be? Why was it so hard to let go of what's been done? 

There was the option of confronting Arnie again of the whole shit fest that came about. That all depends on how he was going to approach him unlike the last time. 

Buddy’s choices were extremely limited. If he would want to get a clear answer, then … 

What other choice did he have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure why but writing Arnie in this chapter was fun~ Being an understandably snarky little asshole ndfjjkfns


	4. Licking The Wounds

_Saturday 3:30 pm_

“How did your session go, sweet heart?” Dennis’s mother asks, stopping at the light. 

Dennis had his head resting on the car door window with his eyes deep in a complete trance. His mother's question flew over him as his mind was fixated in the trees outside. Budding their spring flowers passing through his line of sight was almost sickeningly hypnotic. It was all his mind wanted to concentrate on. 

_“You may never play football again.”_

Of course those weren’t in the exact doctor's words, but it may as well be. The shares of concerned statements before the doctor could hit him with what he never thought he had to hear. How close he was to becoming paralyzed was a terrifying thought. 

It was a close call. 

_Sure._

But what the fuck does that leave him with?

A broken leg that requires daily physical therapy and school work piling up left to right due to missing days of classes. Luckily many had volunteered to help him with what he missed from class, but most of the time it felt as if they were throwing their unwanted pity onto him. 

Nothing like being constantly reminded that he was practically useless. 

“Dennis?” His mother called to him, “You okay, honey?” 

“Mmhm.” Dennis rubs his eyes, “Yeah, therapy went okay. Just the same old routine.” 

His mother nods, keeping her eyes on the traffic light. 

“Guess it gets pretty boring after a while, but it helps to make your leg stronger I bet.” 

Dennis looked over to his mother. The smile she displayed was genuine, underlying with sadness. She was more than happy that her son was participating in physical therapy instead of sitting on the couch to let his muscles wither away. No, he was getting stronger, but he was going through his own hardships. Both mentally and emotionally. 

The nights that she had cried wishing there was something she could do more for him. Why, she would give up her right arm just so he could play football again. Anything at all to rid him of the heartache, she would do it. 

“I mean, they change it up every once in a while. Like, sometimes I’ll be on my back or on my side.” Dennis explains, “The physical therapist I had today was really cute though.” 

“Oh, Dennis Guilder!” She reached out to playfully pinch Dennis’s arm. 

The two filled the car with laughter before his mother could bring her attention back on traffic. With the light green, they were on their way again. The laughter dies down to soft giggles then to complete silence. If only she were able to make him smile and laugh all the time.

“I don’t mean to change the subject sweet heart, but I’ve noticed that your hair’s getting longer.” She says, “Did you want to get it cut soon?” 

Dennis leans his weight against the car window with his mothers question in mind. He will admit that he had embarrassingly neglected his usual routine of maintaining his “football hero” image. It didn’t matter anymore now that he can’t play. 

“N-Nah. I don’t mind.” Dennis shrugs, “I actually kinda like it.” 

“Alright, if you say so, sweet heart. Just don’t come to me though when your sister starts making fun of you.” His mother says, turning into the street that leads to home. 

“Hey, it’s cool. It’ll just mean that she’s clearly envious of my golden locks.” Dennis places a hand on his chest, speaking in a posh accent. “She’ll be lucky at all if I give her the privilege of putting flowers in it or even get to brush it.” 

“Oh Dennis, stop it! You two are always teasing each other.” 

With another shrug, Dennis couldn’t help but smile that was accompanied with a quiet chuckle. Looking out the window before his mother would soon pull into their driveway, he sees someone standing outside of Arnie’s door. The figure looked familiar and Dennis couldn’t really get a good sight of whoever it might be due to the speed of the car. Confused, Dennis rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to recall the image of the person in his mind. Maybe it’s not important, but whoever was at the door didn’t seem like the type of person that either Arnie or his parents would interact. 

Maybe he should check it out. 

Or, …. Just leave it. 

Arnie and him haven’t been talking much. Ever since Arnie had completely lost his shit and Leigh and him broke up there wasn’t much to talk about. It had already pissed him enough to hear of the things that Arnie had said and done to Leigh, but at the same time Dennis knew that it wasn’t him. 

Why would he want to talk to him now just because he saw someone by his door? He was tired and had a lot of things on his mind. Might as well leave it. 

* * *

_Sunday 11:00 AM_

“What a crock of shit!” 

Don winced hearing Moochie down from the corner of the block. With that high-pitched yelling of his, he wouldn’t be surprised if he would be able to hear him on a five mile radius. He chuckled at the thought. 

“God, what the fuck is the matter now?” Don muttered to himself, preparing to be bombarded with whatever complaints Moochie had to share. 

As soon as Moochie arrives inside of the repair shop he immediately heads towards the soda vending machine. Grumbling under his breath as he aggressively jams the quarters into the slot one by one. 

“Good to see you too, Mooch. Also you break the machine you pay for it.” Don smirks, tossing his oil-stained rag onto his shoulder. 

“Get bent.” Moochie fumed. 

He grabs the two chilled coke cans from the machine. Moochie was expecting to hear a comeback from Don any second but was only given uncomfortable silence instead. Figured since it was still morning that Don was too tired to argue, it was an automatic win for the ol’ Moochster. 

“What’s the matter, Donny? No remarks?” Moochie questions mockingly. 

As he turns around with the coke cans in both hands, his shit-eating smirk drops from what his eyes are met with. 

Don had literally bent the upper half of his body with his head between his legs. The tip of his ass-crack showing between the edges of his work shirt and pants. What a fucking sight. 

“What?” Don laughs, “Why are you so surprised?” 

“Oh my _god_.” 

Moochie shook his head unable to contain the laughter fluttering in his stomach. If there was one thing that Don was good at, it was making him get into fits of laughter. 

“I thought you wanted me to get bent.” Don sticks his tongue out. 

“Yeah, I did, but that doesn’t mean I wanna see your ass-crack.” Moochie displays a lop-sided grin, walking up to Don as he presses the cold cola can against the skin. 

“Holy shit!” Don yelped, shooting his upper body straight up. 

Don rubs the spot of his skin where Mooch placed the cola can to warm it up. Despite feeling pissed, he was also happy to hear Moochie laugh so heartily. Don knew that he could win in the battle of wits, but letting Mooch take the win this time was what he needed. Better to hear him laugh than throw a temper tantrum. 

“Haha! You should’ve seen your face!” Moochie laughs, “I got ya good!” 

“Yeah, ya sure did.” Don lightly scoffs, taking one of the coke’s from Moochie. 

Cracking the can open, he can hope that whatever was bothering Moochie he can put to rest. Don had a strong feeling that it had something to do with Buddy and his recent odd behavior. It was clear to him that something did happen on that night when Buddy went to the liquor store and didn’t come back. His suspicions were clear when he would mention it to Richie only to get unclear answers. It had only sparked a dangerous curiosity inside. A very dangerous curiosity to seek out a possible skeleton in the closet. However, Don knew better than to stick his nose into places where it shouldn’t be. Especially if it would cost a limb or two. It’s not worth involving himself in more of Buddy’s bullshit.

Once Moochie’s laughter died down, he cracked open his can of coke and jugged it down till the carbonation tickled his throat. Exhaling with satisfaction, he sees Don lost in his train of thought looking down at his own coke can. 

“So, uh, you pretty much notice it too right?” Moochie asks, taking a few steps towards Don. “About Buddy I mean.” 

Shit. Don honestly wanted to dodge the question. Maybe if he went back to work with short answers Moochie will change the subject. 

“What about it?” Don walks towards the car he was working on and opens the hood. 

“Oh c’mon, Don! You seriously can’t deny that something is going on with him. And I mean that in an unordinary way.” Moochie sighs, “He just seems more tired, frustrated, and his fuse has been getting shorter. It’s all happened ever since he never came back from that liquor store trip. I just know something huge happened, Don, and I’m gonna find out what it is.” 

Don’s face wrinkled from hearing of how dedicated Moochie’s words are. He couldn’t blame him that Moochie wanted answers, but this all felt too serious for him to handle. Much like Buddy, Moochie was a ticking time-bomb. A guy that often doesn’t think before acting if none at all. If he found out the reason behind Buddy’s current strife it would only cause Moochie to be in more trouble than he already is. It was bad enough when the police breathed down their necks with constant questions of Cunningham’s car. They were lucky enough to get by scott-free. 

“Whoa, whoa, hang on. Before you go all Sherlock on the situation, shouldn’t you consult Buddy about this first?” Don gives a quick glance to Mooch, “I mean, whatever he’s going through sounds personal.” 

“All the more reason to find out! I think it's important to know of what’s going on just so we can help him. It’s obvious enough he’s too upset to say anything, so once we get to the bottom of it, we can take care of it!” Moochie exclaims, aggressively chugging down the rest of his coke before crushing it in his hand. “Whoever it was that’s fucking with him is going to wish they were never born.”

“Moochie, I don’t know if you remember or not but we’re still on thin ice with the law right now after …. what happened. ” Don whispers, looking outside to be sure no one was listening. “The last thing we want is to gain more attention just because you want to play ‘hero’ and possibly get Buddy into more trouble. Don’t go out of your way of doing stupid shit without at least thinking about it first.” 

Moochie flinched out of surprise at how much Don was against his idea. He couldn’t help but feel hurt and defensive as if Don was telling him he’s a flat out dumbshit for wanting to help out someone he cares about. 

“S-So, what?! I should just fucking stand here and do nothing!? Is that what you’re tellin’ me?! To just let Buddy go on like this and just watch him go through it from the background like an asshole!? Fuck you!” Moochie yells, feeling his face flush. 

“I didn’t fucking say do nothing! I just--!!” Don stopped himself, closing his eyes tightly and taking a deep breath. “Look, all I’m saying is that if you plan on investigating a problem that’s not even yours, we have to tell Buddy. Even if you don’t agree I’ll end up having to tell him either way.” 

Feeling the tears behind his eyes from the frustration, Moochie couldn’t share anymore words with the fear of losing his temper even further. The frustrating part of this was that Don was right. Buddy would be more than unforgiving if he found out that Moochie was snooping about in his business without consenting to it. 

“Mooch, I’m not here to tell you that your idea is shit. I know that what you want to do is out of good intentions for him.” Don says, voice now gentle and sincere. “I’m sorry that I was harsh with you earlier, but I would rather be honest with you than to have you go blindly do something you’ll regret later.” 

After a minute of soaking in Don’s words, Moochie nods reluctantly as he wipes the tears flowing out of his eyes with his sleeve. His body trembling from the after effects of his anger fueled adrenaline rush making it hard to swallow down the lump in his throat. 

“T-Then w-what can I do?” Moochie managed to speak out, a whimper accompanied his voice. 

“I’ll tell ya what we can do. We can go to the liquor store tonight and get some beer, go find Buddy, have a sit down and tell him all about it. I’ll be with ya the entire time, okay?” Don shares Moochie a warm smile, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Nothin’ to it.” 

Moochie could only give Don back a crooked smile. Now feeling stupid for his outburst he wasn’t sure what else he could say. 

“I’m …, Don. I …” 

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it. Just glad we came to an agreement.” Don pats Moochie’s shoulder, “I do have to go back to work though. Feel free to stick around and hang until I get off work. Then we’ll head over to get the booze.” 

“Y-yeah, sure. I’ll need a minute to get my shit together. Don’t want to go home anyway, y’know?” Moochie sits on a nearby chair, rubbing his eyes. 

“Yeah, I getcha.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly enjoyed writing this chapter as I seriously love the dynamic I wrote for both Don and Mooch. Of course these two weren't really fleshed out in the book soooo *cracks knuckles* LETS CHANGE THAT SHALL WE????


	5. Snitch

_Sunday 2:30 PM_

It would have to be his sixth cigarette that he had smoked in the last hour. The pungent smell that was sticking to his clothes would give him a good excuse to stray away from home as much as possible. His father always did disapprove the smell of cigarette’s on his clothes, but fuck it. It was the least of his worries right now. 

Last night he was asleep when Richie had finally come home with the beer and cigarettes that he was supposed to retrieve a long time ago. Buddy didn’t want to hear Richie’s reason on why he was gone for so long as he was far past the point of caring. 

Right now, Buddy’s planning on how he was going to talk to Arnie without scaring him away. It was all about trying to keep his anger-filled excitement under control in order to get the answers he’s been desperate to obtain. Arnie knew something. 

But how was he going to approach this? Buddy didn’t know if he was home now or somewhere else either alone or with his parents. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to run from place to place to play “Catch-Me-If-You-Can” and to possibly only catch Arnie for a limited amount of time. 

The only solution he could think of was go to his house and night and go from there. Of course there was the endangerment of his parents coming out with a shotgun in their hands, so he’ll have to plan it out carefully. How he’ll get Arnie’s attention from his room will be difficult. On how he’ll explain himself on why he had to come to his window will be even more difficult. 

Welp, guess he’ll have to play it by ear. 

It was still early to make his trip towards Arnie’s neighborhood, so he’ll have to find a way to kill time. 

Going back home was out of the question. It was almost time for Don to get out of work. Maybe Moochie’s with him and he could hang with them for a bit. Although they might start asking questions. They’ve probably noticed how strange he’s been acting and would want to know out of concern. That ends up being a no-go for Buddy. 

Maybe he’ll drive around town to finish up his pack of Camels and go to a bar for a while. Chug a few bottles of beer and a shot of good ol’ Jack Daniels to take the edge off before making the trip to the Cunningham residence. However, It wouldn’t be a good idea to drive to Arnie’s neighborhood after drinking. Where the fuck would he even park his car without the neighbors taking notice? Would anybody even notice? Or even care? 

Fuck, now he _really_ needed a drink. 

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have just one beer. 

Or two. 

* * *

_6:00 PM_

“Augh, fuck. My ass is totally sore, dude.” Moochie groans, “I probably would’ve been better off sitting on the floor.” 

“I did tell ya that the chair was old, Mooch. It used to be comfortable before my co-workers kept stealing it and using it for themselves.” Don chuckles softly, locking up the garage. 

“What co-workers?” Moochie tilted his head slightly, rubbing his posterior. “Is there someone else that works here with you?” 

“No, I’m talking about the couple of guys that work in the gas station. There’s the guy that pumps the gas and does the janitorial duties and the other guy works by the register. Both are a couple of assholes that tend to steal my shit and never give it back. The fuck would they need my tools for in a gas station?!” Don huffs in agitation, “Not sure why I stick around in the shit pile when I can work somewhere a bit more respectable.” 

“Well, fuck man. If you ever need me to give him a hit in the gut you just say so!” Moochie holds up his knuckles proudly, “I may be slow when it comes to hits but I sure shit enough make sure that they fuck off with plenty of bruises.” 

“Not to mention the fact that you’re pretty good at crackin’ a few nuts.” Don adds in, laughing. 

“Psh, especially Guilder. I thought the bastard was gonna puke in front of everybody.” Moochie grins. 

The two shared their laughter before getting inside Don’s car. It was nice to hear Moochie in a better mood than earlier today. Don had internally prayed that Buddy was just going through a tough rut and nothing else that could set Moochie off. The three of them could just sit down, and maybe invite Richie if he’s around, have a few beers and just talk it out. 

So, why was there this uneasiness swelling Don’s chest? He shouldn’t feel this unnecessarily nervous going to a fucking liqour store. It wasn’t the type of uneasiness he would expect to feel of what would happen after discussing their concerns, but rather upcoming events that could turn the whole plan on a complete one-eighty. To Don, that doesn’t make sense. What could possibly happen?

Don had this same feeling when Buddy had brought up the plan to trash Arnie’s car. He remembered overhearing Richie trying to talk Buddy out of it because he felt something was extremely off about that car. Don was relieved he wasn’t alone, but once Buddy’s mind was made up, everybody had to follow. 

At first it was funny. Excessively petty, but hilarious in the short span of the adrenaline rush at the time. Now, …

Now everything isn’t fucking funny. It’s now ridiculous and mentally tiring. It makes Don wish Moochie would’ve kept his big mouth shut about the location of where Arnie kept the car. 

Fuck, what a mess. 

Pulling up into the parking lot of the liquor store, Moochie was the first to get out and get in with much enthusiasm. Don would call himself a liar if he said he didn’t find it funny if not adorable. 

“Remember, we’re just here to get some beer. Nothin’ fancy.” Don says, making sure his wallet was in his pocket. 

“Maybe instead of beer we get some Texas Driver? Figured if we’re gonna lure him in a ‘discussion’ we might as well use what he likes.” Moochie suggests. 

“That’s … not a bad idea, Mooch. I just hope he won’t suspect anything right off the bat when we present them to him and begin to wig out.” Don sighs, “And I am seriously not in the mood for anymore fighting today.” 

“It’ll be fine, Don. As long as we play our cards right then it’ll all be smooth sailing.” Moochie reassures, patting Don’s back. 

“Mmmhm. Just remember that if Buddy doesn’t want to share any information, we have to respect it. Got it? No goin’ on detective work without him saying so.” Don opens the liquor store door, allowing Moochie to go in first. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.” Moochie rolls his eyes, stepping inside. 

Don followed Moochie inside the store to find a few people wandering around. Old folk just minding their own business as they carefully look through the different brands of whiskey and wine. No line at the front. Perfect. Get the goods and get out. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Vandenberg. I haven’t seen ya in a while!” The store clerk calls from the front, an unbidden grin appearing behind his bearded face. 

“Tony.” Don flatly says, his eyes fixated on the aisles of alcohol. 

The one to pick up the liquor would be Buddy and him alone. Sometimes Richie would tag along to get first dibs on the booze and spark conversations that stay inside of Buddy’s camaro. In this case, Don knowing full well he had to be the one to buy liquor was something he originally would never do. Avoiding this liquor store in particular was one of his top properties. Why? 

Tony Brown. That’s why. 

The guy wasn’t exactly easy on the eyes with his heavily wrinkled face that was messily complimented with his salt n’ pepper beard. Eyes light brown and completely blood-shot. The guy, in Don’s eyes, looked like the typical local crack-addict that people can either hate or enjoy being around. 

Although hate would be putting it lightly, this man had done multiple actions out of sheer cruelty that almost had him land in jail a few times. One of those actions had involved Don’s mother four years ago that ignited a flame of extreme loath that he never thought he could feel towards one person alone. The action almost caused his parents to consider divorce and instead take their anger out towards each other. They sleep in different rooms, intentionally give each other cold shoulders, and often come home at different hours. The only time they ever speak to each other would be discussing business or anything that concerns Don. At this point, they might as well get a divorce. Just rip the bandaid off and either one or the other move out of the house. Religious duties be damned. 

But it's whatever. Don didn’t come to the store to be reminded of everything. 

It seemed that Moochie was sensing Don’s discomfort and gave him a bit of a nudge on the arm. 

“If you want, I can buy the stuff while you wait into the car.” Moochie quietly suggests, “I gotcha.” 

With a bit of relief rushing from his chest to his limbs, Don could only smile. 

“You need cash?” Don asks, his hand reaching to his back pocket to get his wallet. 

“Nah, no need. I still have cash from skippin’ lunch today, so this is on me.” Moochie wiggles his brows. “I’ll meet you outside.” 

“Thanks, Mooch. Remind me to treat you to dinner later.” Don’s smile expanded, making his way towards the door. 

“It’s a date.” Moochie says before having to muffle his laughter. 

Don faced the other way in time just so Moochie wouldn’t witness his cheeks burning red. It seems silly, but Moochie had always said the right words that would send Don’s heart beating fast. How charismatic Moochie would be saying those words that Don wouldn’t mind hearing them the second time around. 

Hopefully, if all turns out well tonight, Don would like to take Moochie out to somewhere nice. It’ll probably all depend on what Moochie wants and that’s completely fine. Whether it would be a snobbish establishment or Gino’s Fine Italian Pizza, Don didn’t care. As long as he gets to spend more time with Moochie, it was all worth it. 

As Don waits in the car, Moochie grabs as many Texas Drivers that he could buy and immediately goes to the register. He tries his best to make as less eye contact as possible with Tony as he could. There was something abnormal about the way that Tony would look at certain people that felt intruding. Almost as if he knew a person just by looking at them. 

“Well, well, this is a new change of pace. Never thought I’d see you be the one to purchase booze.” Tony crosses his arms, leaning onto the counter. 

“Y-yeah. First time for everything.” Moochie chuckles, hoping Tony wouldn’t pick up the nervous tone. 

Right after Moochie placed the Texas Driver’s on the counter, he immediately placed the money with it. All that was going through Moochie’s mind was to just get the liquor and haul ass out of the store as soon as possible. Hopefully Tony will pick up that Moochie wasn’t here for pep talk. 

“Texas Driver’s huh? ‘S Bud havin’ you buy these?” Tony casually says, placing each bottle slowly in a brown bag. 

“Uh, yeah.” Moochie stuffs his hands into his sweater pockets. 

Again, Moochie’s keeping in mind to keep his replies short and sweet. 

“‘S funny. I saw him here a while ago about to make a few purchases until somethin’ went down. Another fella was here of which Buddy immediately directed his attention towards him.” Tony states, finishing up as he takes the cash off from the counter. “The two were going at each other in the parking lot.” 

Something unpleasant stirred up in the pit of Moochie’s stomach. The nauseating shock wave made him almost lose his footing as he had to close his eyes tightly for a moment to catch his bearings. He swallowed hard to moisten his dry throat. 

“R-Really?” Moochie staggers, “Do you know who the guy was?” 

“Mmm, I can’t really say. Didn’t catch his name, but after the argument they left with each other. Witnessing all that was hilarious if you ask me.” Tony shrugs, placing Moochie’s change onto the counter along with the bags containing the Texas Drivers. 

“Do you know what this guy looked like?” Moochie questions, grabbing the bags anxiously. 

“Kid, I’ve seen a lot of people here that come and go. Many different faces come in that I don’t care to remember.” 

Now, Moochie knew that was a lie. Sure, different people come in every once in a while, but besides that Tony knew everybody of Libertyville. He was the one of the main hotspots for gossip and knew everybody’s grandfather that would waltz in to get their fix of Tennessee whiskey. 

“Al though, the only thing I can remember was that the guy was wearing a pair of broken glasses and owned a Chevy. That’s all.” 

Broken glasses and a Chevy? It was half the truth in Moochie’s mind as he remembered that Buddy broke his glasses after their encounter in school before he was expelled. Cunningham owning a car like a Chevrolet doesn’t sound right. He currently owns an outdated car that Moochie took the pleasure of defecating on just as they were smashing it to pieces. 

Ha. 

But there was no way in hell that Buddy would leave with Arnie. He was hoping to god that Tony was just fucking with him. 

“Right. Well, I gotta go take these to Bud. Keep the change.” Moochie concludes, keeping a good grip on the bags. 

“Sure. Have a good one.” Tony waves, “Say hello to Buddy for me.” 

The last words that Tony said as Moochie was leaving were so mockingly sweet it aided to the nausea that he was feeling previously. If his hands weren’t full from the bags he would’ve climbed over the counter just to punch the fucker in the face. Everything he had said had to be some sort of sick joke. 

The only truth he will accept will be from Buddy and that’s that. 

Opening the back door of Don’s car, he carefully arranges the bags onto the seats and closes the door hard without even realizing it. Don flinched from the door closing so harshly, mouthing a “what the fuck?”. 

“Mooch, really? Was it really that necessary to slam the door?” Don rose his brow, “Did something happen?” 

Moochie sighs heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He wanted to forget everything like it was a joke. A horribly told joke that wasn’t worth remembering. 

“I’ll tell you about it later. Let’s just go take these to Bud.” He replies, arching his head against the seat headrest. 

As much as Don wanted to know of what went on inside the liquor store, he was more than eager to leave the parking lot. 

“Let’s go to Richie’s and see if he’s still there.” Don looks right to left to check for traffic before heading into the main road. 

“And if he’s not there we know his main spots. Can’t be too hard.” Moochie leans his elbow against the car window. 

“I just hope this will all be worth it.” Don grips the steering wheel hard. 

“Me too, Don. Me too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don and Mooch are adorbs in this chapter change my mind

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! I'm really glad I'm able to share this fanfiction with you guys as this ship is one of my all time ships in any fandom as Stephen King's Christine as a whole has been a huge comforting hyperfixation of mine for years. With the headcanons that a dear friend of mine along with myself have created for the characters, we are very eager to share them with you~ Four chapters are already done while chapter five is in the works as I'm currently trying to finish other chapters for my other fics, so for now the upcoming chapters will be submitted in a week or two <3


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